Chapter 4: The Ticking Clock
Ryan showed up at my hotel that night. I didn't let him in, so we stood in the hallway, the fluorescent lights humming overhead. He looked disheveled, his suit wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot. The charm that had once ensnared me was replaced by a desperate, twitching anxiety.
"Nicole, please," he started, reaching for my hand. I stepped back, my expression neutral. "My father is losing his mind. He’s liquidating assets, trying to cover the holes you found. He thinks if he hides the money, the evidence will vanish."
"The evidence is already in the hands of the authorities, Ryan," I said coolly.
His face paled. "You don't understand. If he goes down, we all go down. Mom, Megan... the lifestyle, the reputation—it all disappears. You’re part of this family, Nicole. You’re a Reynolds."
"I was a victim in that house," I corrected him. "And I have no intention of going down with the ship you helped build."
He tried to shift tactics, moving from pleading to intimidation. He hinted that he knew things about my family, threats aimed at my parents. It was a mistake. My fear had been replaced by a cold, sharp resolve. I pulled out my phone and hit 'record' on the voice memo app.
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"Threaten me again, Ryan," I said, my voice steady. "And I’ll make sure your father isn't the only one in the family heading to a cell."
He stared at me, seeing the woman who had put a knife in the table. He realized that the leverage he thought he had was nothing compared to the truth. He turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped, leaving me alone in the sterile hallway. The countdown had begun.
